


Make-Believe Residency

by gayvidtennant



Category: Arctic Monkeys, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hotel, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 07:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15166151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayvidtennant/pseuds/gayvidtennant
Summary: An aspiring fashion designer checks into the Vegas hotel, expecting to get work done. He never anticipated an alluring receptionist would turn his life upside down.





	Make-Believe Residency

**Author's Note:**

> I imagined Alex and Miles being around 21, but having the same style and hair as they do currently. Even though we all know 21 year old Alex could NEVER grow facial hair lol.
> 
> also shoutout to [Alexander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/8291993/pseuds/8291993) for helping me come up with a title

He stepped into the lobby, sighing as the air conditioning offered relief from the sticky Las Vegas heat. His suitcases felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each, and his arms ached from dragging them the short distance from where the taxi had dropped him off outside. Removing his sunglasses and hanging them on his collar, he looked around the room. The Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino was known for offering high quality at (somewhat) reasonable prices, as well as the 70s style décor and theme. No paintings hung from the wood-paneled walls, and the lack of windows paired with the yellowish glow from the hanging lights made him feel like he had stepped into a time machine. A few people sat in the light tan and burnt orange couches seemingly arranged to promote conversation between strangers. It seemed to be working; he realized he didn’t see a phone in the hand of one person in the lobby. 

He walked towards the receptionist’s desk, noting how the wood from the desk matched the walls. The person behind the desk sat in a muted-maroon chair with their back to him. After waiting a moment, he cleared his throat. The receptionist swung around so quick that it startled him. “Good afternoon. Welcome to the Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino, where star treatment is a guarantee.” he droned as if he was reading off a script, “I’m Alex, how may I help you?”

Words failed him. His senses were overloaded; he didn’t know what to focus on first. The Yorkshire accent reminded him of home, somehow soothing the niggling feeling of homesickness and loneliness that came with living abroad, the one that never fully disappeared no matter how often you phoned your parents or texted your old friends; he felt a wave of peace wash over his body solely from hearing the man speak. But it didn’t last long. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man’s, so big and brown and beautiful. Everything about Alex’s demeanor screamed boredom – the tone of his voice; the dark rings underneath his eyes; his chapped lips, peeling from being picked at; the red indention on his cheek left from leaning on his fist for too long. But his eyes were full of life and wonder; an obvious craving for something more shone brighter than the chandelier in the lobby. The man had to be in his early 20s, despite how hard he tried to appear older with his reddish goatee. His black hair was shoulder length; it looked like he shoved a gel-covered hand through it once to keep it out of his face, but it still flowed and almost curled around his face. Dizziness suddenly overcame him; he felt sick to his stomach – maybe caused by Alex’s peculiar beauty, maybe caused by the exhausting hours of traveling. He didn’t know. 

“Do you have a reservation with us?” He noticed the eyes that he had been hypnotized by were now narrowed in confusion. Or frustration. Probably both.

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered. His usual outgoing personality had vanished, destroyed by the man now speaking to him.

“Do you have a name?” Alex asked, not even trying to hide the annoyance his words dripped in. 

“Uh, it’s Kane. Well, the last name. First name Miles. Miles Kane.” He rambled. He felt his face flush red, and he knew it had nothing to do with the heat. 

Alex nodded, seemingly not noticing the fact that Miles sounded like someone who learned to speak yesterday, and turned his back to him again. He tapped the keyboard of the computer – the only object in the room that broke the 70s illusion – a few times, before tossing a register and some forms onto the counter. “Sign these.” Alex sighed, rising to grab a room key from the wall behind him. “You’re in room 521.” He informed Miles, collapsing back into his small chair with a huff and hitting the call bell that rested on his desk (with a little too much force, Miles noticed).

Both men waited in silence for a few moments. “Oh, for fuc-” Alex started, the rest of his words morphing into a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes as if he had a headache. “I forgot half our fuckin’ workers got suspended for using drugs while on the clock. Which means I’m the only fuckin’ one here to do everything.” 

“I’m sorry,” Miles offered pathetically, unable to tell if Alex was talking to him or himself as Alex rose to discard his tan suit jacket. Alex began rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, muttering curses to himself the entire time. 

“It’s fine! I’m the only capable one here anyway.” Alex growled, walking over to grab Miles’ suitcases. “These your only bags?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to-” Miles tried to protest, reaching down to take the handle back from Alex.

“That’s nice of you, but actually I do.” He lifted Miles’ suitcases without too much effort, and began walking towards the set of elevators at the other end of the lobby. Miles followed wordlessly, mind spinning at a thousand miles an hour. He was always able to charm anyone with ease; all it took was a few witty lines and a flash of his infectious smile for men and women alike to melt. He’d been around beautiful people before, but none of them had ever had him tongue tied like Alex did. He wished miserably that Alex wasn’t in such a bad mood; maybe then he would’ve at least made conversation with Miles.

Miles decided to try again as they waited for the elevator to arrive. “You’re from Yorkshire, yeah? I’m from Liverpool. It’s nice to meet someone else from home. What made you move to Vegas?” Not his best work, but it was better than the silence.

“School. The university here has a good business program.” Alex paused, scratching his goatee for a moment before continuing. “And I wanted out of Sheffield, I guess. The glitz and glam of Vegas drew me in, it was far away, I thought I’d be living the American dream and partying all the time out here.” the elevator doors opened with a ping, and both men stepped in. “But really, all I’ve done is work here and study. What about you?”

Shocked by Alex’s sudden talkativeness, Miles waited a moment before answering. “I’m a fashion designer. Well, an aspiring one. I moved to New York a few years ago to pursue it.” He admitted hesitantly, not understanding why he suddenly felt shy. He usually was full of pride for his work, but now he found himself worrying that Alex would find him shallow or naïve for working in the fashion industry. “There’s an exhibition this weekend and I’m hoping to get some of my stuff noticed by some big companies. That’s why there’s so much in those suitcases; they’ve got all my samples in there.” He said apologetically, nodding at the bags in Alex’s hands. 

Alex nodded; did he look impressed or was Miles just imagining it? Before he had time to decide, the elevator doors were opening once again and Alex hurried out into the hall. He brought Miles’ bags to room 521, setting them down outside. “Well, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call.” 

Alex turned to walk away, while Miles fished in his pockets for cash. “Wait, here.” He handed Alex a crumpled twenty dollar bill. 

“You’ve said you’ve been in the States for a few years, yeah? So you know how much twenty bucks is?” Alex asked, looking at the bill in Miles’ outstretched hand with an eyebrow raised. Miles nodded. “What are you, like twenty? Trust me, in a year or so, you’ll need all the money you can get. Or you’ll be stuck working a shitty job like this. Don’t waste it like that.” 

“I’m probably older than you.” Miles retorted, feeling his confidence finally returning. “Just take it. It’s two less hours you have to spend working this shitty job, isn’t it?”

Alex blinked, his eyes momentarily meeting Miles’. Miles felt electricity surge through his veins, blurring his vision until Alex’s eyes returned to the floor. Alex’s snide resistance instantly morphed into humble gratitude. “Th-thank you so much. That’s too kind, really. You shouldn’t.” He finally accepted the bill from Miles, refusing to look up from the floor. “If there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable, let me know.” 

Miles watched the other man pocket the bill and walk back to the elevator, dragging his feet. He didn’t notice until that moment how small Alex really was; his jaded yet sardonic attitude somehow worked together to create an aura of confidence, causing him to seem larger than Miles. 

Miles stood staring even after Alex disappeared behind the elevator doors. He swallowed thickly, trying to wrap his mind around everything he had experienced in the past few minutes. His heart still pounded, his head still swam, and his palms still sweated. Something about Alex had truly gotten to him, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. 

Miles shrugged and entered his hotel room.


End file.
